Salome

Long before Oscar Wilde’s interpretation, the figure of Salome already appeared in the Bible. There, the story was about how King Herod, his stepdaughter Salome, and John the Baptist (Jochanaan) each lose their heads—although in very different ways... King Herod has his eyes set on his stepdaughter, Salome. She, in turn, recoils from his improper glances and has her own sights set on another man: the imprisoned prophet Jochanaan, who refuses to even look at her. Herod commands Salome to dance for him, as he wants to see her completely—without veils. The Dance of the Seven Veils becomes the pivotal moment, with Salome exposing herself to the gaze of the king and his reveling guests. But for this dance, she demands from Herod an extraordinary reward: ‘The head of Jochanaan!’ Thus unfolds a tragedy of gazes, until the very last glance. Seeing and not seeing are integral to the erotic game: ‘Never will you see me where I see you’. This truism of love encapsulates the tragedy of unbridled desire—one that is never truly fulfilled and always ends in want. Each character in Salome fails to connect, and perishes. It’s no wonder that the composer Richard Strauss called his work ‘a scherzo with a fatal outcome’. Director Evgeny Titov puts the construction of erotic fantasies at the heart of his production. Projections and counterprojections chase and elude each other, with voyeurism and exhibitionism entwined in a repressed sexuality caught between desire and prohibition, ecstasy and death. As they did with George Enescu’s Œdipe, the creative team once again delves into an ancient question: How does guilt arise? Read more Show lessSeeing and not seeing are integral to the erotic game: ‘Never will you see me where I see you’. This truism of love encapsulates the tragedy of unbridled desire—one that is never truly fulfilled and always ends in want. Each character in Salome fails to connect, and perishes. It’s no wonder that the composer Richard Strauss called his work ‘a scherzo with a fatal outcome’. Director Evgeny Titov puts the construction of erotic fantasies at the heart of his production. Projections and counterprojections chase and elude each other, with voyeurism and exhibitionism entwined in a repressed sexuality caught between desire and prohibition, ecstasy and death. As they did with George Enescu’s Œdipe, the creative team once again delves into an ancient question: How does guilt arise? Read more Show less